Why Do I Forget?

by Julie Lamb Band

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The Short Story of the Song “Why Do I Forget”

Just before Christmas last year there was more pressure in this world than many people could bear. One of them was a close etherworld friend of mine, who ended up in hospital on the edge of nearly not being.

Even when she was present, she was not. Her whole being revolved around feeling bad. Her whole self went to that place of “The world is better off without me”.

So many people I know feel like this… dull, vibrance gone, self hatred to the fore. Disappointment with self making a huge disappointment of the world.

For me interpreting and understanding that is not difficult. There are dull patches and tears and self hatred, guilt, regret, sadness. Sometimes it’s hard to remember the happies… but I can, and do…

But, in the words of Pretty Woman, “It’s easier to believe the bad stuff”. Apparently it takes nine times of hearing good stuff to let it sink in… Random… We don’t like giving ourselves the time of day.

So, I’m that kid - the one who doesn’t like taking time out. If I’m busy I’m in control. If I take time out - it might make me think of the bads.

One day, I was groaning and grumbling to myself that I had to take a shower. Please understand - it’s not that I don’t want to SHOWER! It’s that I resent the time it takes, and have to ease into the time out it makes. I stepped into the lovely warm water, and thought “Why Do I Forget how GOOD this feels?” And then, I thought of my etherworld friend. And a song came into being. Long shower…

Why Do I Forget was born of sadness for my friend. Of sympathy, empathy and love. Of sadness for me. Of self awareness, loss and love.

Why do the simple pleasures become irrelevant? Listening to Lockie poodling around the back yard, writing a blog, singing dumb stuff? Showers? They just do. Some of us can scream through it, cry through it, muddle through it, logic through it. Some of us can’t. Some of us Just Can’t. And the days are grey.

I wrote this song from that place. The vocal arrangements are reflective of that greyness, not happy, not sad, no lift, no dip. Just Being. The instruments - with the exception of the uncomfortable cymbal scrapes reflect this trudging reality…

Until the solos…

In the first, the vocals soar and dip, sob and whisper, kids laughter interspersed with operatic vocals. (Emma Davey). The instruments throb and drive, release and push. Then we drop back into the verses and the trudge… In the second solo, the vocal is pushed into Floyd styles, (Deb Rock-Evans) a lament, a cry, goosebumps (for me). The instruments solo - a reflection of LET ME BE HEARD, the laughter and the sobbing and whispering a mad underlay… and then a release into peace, the guitar a rocking time pulse… and the vocal becoming monotonal, and so back to grey.

That is the short story of this song, and before I post the lyric here, I want to say to you all:

You are loved, you are loved, you are loved, you are loved, you are loved, you are loved, YOU are loved, you ARE loved, you are LOVED.



why do i forget how good things feel, why do i forget how good things feel. when life has me down and i’m pinned to the ground, why do i forget how good things feel? why do i forget how loved i am, why do i forget how loved i am. when hurt holds me down and there’s fear on the prowl, why do i forget how loved i am?

why do i forget how good i am, why do i forget how good i am. when guilt has me now and regret has me bowed, why do i forget how good i am? why do i forget how loved i feel, why do i forget how loved i feel. when grief has me worn and my life can’t be borne, why do i forget how loved i feel?

why do i forget how loved i am? why do i forget how loved i feel…


released July 1, 2015
Written by: Richardson/Hadley/Hazlitt-Black, Lamb:
Players: Andrew Richardson, Drums; Callum Hazlitt-Black, Bass; Dave Hadley, Guitar; Geraint Scott, Saxophone; Damian Forlong, Trombone; Andreas Lepper, Percussion; Debra Rock-Evans, Emma Davey, Miranda Turner, Julie Lamb, Vocals.



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Julie Lamb Wellington, New Zealand

70's vibed indie art rock: Earworm melodies over ornate arrangements.

Writing, arranging and performing music are some of the most incredible buzzes in my world. I want to be doing this stuff when I'm 90...
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